


Pillow Talk

by FoxyStiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:06:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2668091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyStiles/pseuds/FoxyStiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pack is making an overnight trip to Mexico to try and construct a treaty with the Calaveras, but Stiles forgets his pillow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

“I forgot my pillow,” Stiles says as he reaches for his keys.

Scott sighs in frustration. “Stiles, I know that you have a hard time sleeping without it but it’s too late to go back. Deaton is already here with the van”.

“But —”

“But nothing. Look, dude, you’re just going to have to use another pillow. Besides, we’re only going to be gone over night. I promise you’ll survive.”

The pack had made plans to travel down to Mexico in order to attempt peace talks with the Calaveras. No one believed for a moment that Araya would allow peace between her hunters and the pack, but Scott, ever hopeful, pushed the group to go anyway.

“I still don't get why all of us have to be there. You’re going to be doing all the talking anyways,” Lydia says, dropping her overstuffed bag on the driveway with a thud. She always packed way too much.

“You guys are part of my pack. I wouldn’t want to make any kind of agreement with the Calaveras unless I had your input. I may an be alpha, but I still want my friends there for support”.

“And how am I going to be able to support you without my pillow? What If I don’t get any sleep and I let you do something stupid,” Stiles retorts without missing a beat.

“Stiles for the last time, you —“

“Is the whiney little human afraid to sleep without his pillow?” Derek says smugly, stepping out the front door to his loft and locking it.

Stiles drags his hands across his face. “Great. Now Mr. Souwolf is getting in on the fun. ‘Let’s all just make fun of Stiles because he can’t sleep without his pillow!’ Real nice, guys. Real nice”.

As annoyed as he acts with Derek’s presence, Stiles couldn’t be happier that Derek will be going with them to Mexico. Unbeknownst to the rest of the pack(except maybe Lydia, who has a way of knowing things that she shouldn’t), Stiles was crushing hard on Derek, and he relished any and all time he was able to spend with the big grump. Also, Mexico is hot, which means Derek is going to get sweaty, and his gloriously tight T-shirts are going to stick to his body like glue. Stiles always enjoyed it when that happened.

Scott grabs Allison’s hand and pulls her toward the van. “Can you guys just get in the van already?” he yells, and the pack piles in.  
It was a tight fit after cramming in all of their (but mostly Lydia’s) luggage, but they managed to get everyone into the vehicle. Deaton was driving, Derek was riding shotgun, Scott and Allison were snuggling in the second row, unknowingly forcing Lydia towards the edge of her seat, and Stiles was in the back, gawking at Derek in the rearview mirror. He would be sleeping, if he had his pillow, but staring at Derek would have to suffice.

-

“Twelve hours? No one said that the trip would take twelve hours! Do you realize how boring that is for a hyperactive spaz like me?” Stiles says, waving his arms in the air, “I almost died”.

“We said it a million times Stiles,” Lydia yawns, “Don’t you ever listen when we talk about our plans?”

“He was probably too busy worrying about his wittle pillow,” Derek says teasingly in the way that he and Stiles have always spoken to one another.

“Seriously, Derek, if you make one more joke about my pillow, I’m gonna…” do nothing, Stiles thinks to himself. He could never do anything to Derek, and even if he tried Derek would just counter him with his werewolf powers.

“You guys need to start getting along quick if you're going to be roomies for the night,” Scott says, exhaustion heavy on his voice.

Stiles freezes. _I’m rooming with Derek? He’s gonna kill me, or maybe_ … He shakes the thought from his mind. Derek has werewolf hearing, and he doesn’t want him to hear his heart racing.

“I thought we were rooming together, Scott,” Stiles says while gesturing back and forth between the two of them, “You know, cause we’re best friends”.

“Look, I know that’s what I told you earlier, but Deaton and I want to go over some last minute details to the plan and we might be up for a while. I didn't want to keep you up if you were in the same room”.

“I’ll be fine. I mean it’s not like I’m going to get any sleep anyways without my pillow,” Stiles pleads.

“Stiles, it’s just one night. You’ll be fine, alright?” Scott claps Stiles on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go check us in.”

Stiles looks over where Derek is standing awkwardly, “What? No remarks about how you’re going to kill me in my sleep and feed me to the werecyotes?”

“Oh, uh, I guess that’s okay,” Derek says, almost as if he had just resurfaced from deep thought.

_Okay? What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

“That was a lot less threatening than what I expected. I’m actually kind of disappointed,” Stiles snorts teasingly.

“If you want to be fed to the werecyotes that badly, I think that can be arranged,” Derek says, falling back into their usual routine.

“Looks like you two are gonna have an enjoyable night,” Allison says, passing out the room keys.

Stiles blushes, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! _Nothing at all_ ,” Lydia interjects as she nudges Allison in the ribs. “See you in the morning.”

Stiles sticks his tongue out at Lydia and she shoots him a forced smile. “Girls, am I right?”

Derek just stands there looking at the ground.

 _What is going on with him tonight?_ Stiles ponders. _It’s not like he’s into me or anything_. Stiles blushes at the thought.

“No use standing out here in the dark. Let’s go Sourwolf,” Stiles shoots a smirk at Derek, fighting to relieve the tension in the air.

Derek follows, and the two of them are barely even able to manage small talk as they make the trek to their room. They sat in silence as the elevator carried them upwards, elevator music leaking through strategically hidden speakers. The elevator doors open up into the fourth floor.

“What number is our… _the_ room again?” Stiles asks.

“Do you ever pay attention to anything? It’s room 416. You’re about to pass it,” Derek says.

Stiles unlocks the door and walks in.

“Derek, when are you finally going to learn that I never — uh oh,” Stiles stops in his tracks.

“Uh oh? What do you mean by _uh oh_?” Derek says, pushing through Stiles into the room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Stiles doesn’t even try to suppress his accelerated heart rate as he looks inside. It wasn’t a bad room. In fact, it was quite nice. It had a couch, a flatscreen TV, a mini fridge, two dressers, and one queen sized bed. Stiles was going to sleep in the same bad as Derek. _Derek was going to be sleeping next to Stiles_. Stiles fumbled through his pockets, shakily grabbing at his phone. He sends a text to Scott.

“ _Scott what the hell? You’re going to make me sleep in the same bed as Derek? He’ll kill me_.”

“ _Relax, Stiles. Just work it out.Worst case scenario, one of you sleeps on the couch. I’m turning my phone off so Deaton and I can focus. I’ll talk to you in the morning_.”

And that was that. Stiles was trapped in the same room, the same bed, as Derek. The worst part? He was so excited that he was sure he’d keep Derek up all night with his racing heartbeat.

“No use throwing a fit over it, I guess,” Derek says, tossing his luggage onto the foot of the bed. He looks at Stiles, who is still standing in the doorway. “You can come in, you know, or are you secretly a vampire that needs to be invited in?” Derek giggles at his own joke.

“That would explain why I’m always so pale,” Stiles says, clenching his fists to hide the shaking.

Stiles carries his bag over to the window and sets it down, unzips it and starts putting his clothes into the dresser.

“Are you seriously putting away your clothes? We’re only here for the night. You’ll just have to repack it in the morning,” Derek points out. In his efforts to spark conversation between the two of them, Derek could only think to pick on him like he always does.

“You’re right, I guess,” Stiles pauses, “My mom used to make me put them up right away when I was little. It’s one of the only things I remember about her, so i think I just do it so I can still feel some kind of connection to her,” he says looking at the floor.

“Stiles, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry. I didn’t know that that’s why you were doing that.”

“It’s fine Derek. It’s stupid, anyway.” Stiles crumples the shirt he was holding into a ball.

“It’s not stupid,” Derek argues back, “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Derek chokes on the unexpected words. _Shit. Why the fuck did I just say that_?

Derek stutters, trying to recover, “What I meant was… like… cute, like, a little kid who loves his mommy or —”.

“I get it, dude. No need to panic over a word,” Stiles says hypocritically. His racing heart had all but stopped at Derek’s sudden choice of words. If Derek didn’t kill him in his sleep, he would surely die of a heart attack by morning.

“Let’s just get some sleep, Stiles. We’ve been up since 5:00 this morning and its almost midnight.”

“That’s true,” Stiles says, “Let me just —” Stiles almost trips over his suit case when Derek drops his pants. “Derek, what are you doing?”

“What? Don’t you sleep in your underwear?”

“Well, yeah, but… in the same bed as you…” Stiles gulps loudly enough for a human to hear it from a few feet away.

Derek blushes, hesitating before finally deciding to remove his shirt as well. “Just do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” Derek says to the floor. “It’s not like you’ve never done this with Scott.”

 _He does have a point,_  Stiles thinks. He glances again over at Derek, who’s just standing there in his boxer briefs and fiddling with his newly removed shirt. _Fuck it. What kind of idiot would I be to pass up an opportunity like this_? Stiles argues as he strips down to his boxers.

Derek crawls into bed and Stiles makes his way to the light switch. Releasing a shaky breath, he flips the light off, turning around and walking toward the bed. He wriggles in and finds Derek is on his side, facing the window on the right side of the room.

 _This isn’t so bad_. Stiles reassures himself. He snuggles into the pillow.

Pillow. Stiles had been so distracted by the situation with Derek that he’d forgotten about forgetting his pillow.

Stiles tosses and turns for what seems like an eternity when Derek rolls over, facing him.

“Stiles, if you move one more time, I’m going to throw you out of the window,” Derek growls.

“Sorry,” Stiles said. He meant it. It really was silly that he couldn’t sleep without his pillow.

“What’s so important about that pillow anyways?” Derek asks, turning onto his other side, now facing Stiles.

Derek was so close. His face was only inches away, and Stiles could feel the heat emanating from his skin. He could smell Derek’s breath as it gently blew across him. Stiles almost forgot how to breathe himself.

“Stiles. Hey, don’t tell me you finally fell asleep. Stiles, you in there?” Derek nudges him on the shoulder.

“Oh. Uh… it really isn’t that important. In fact it’s actually really embarrassing and theres no way I’m telling you of all people.” Stiles shifts onto his back and closes his eyes. _There’s no way I’m going to tell him that story_.

“Hey,” Derek taps him on the shoulder again, “There’s no way I’m going to let you get off that easy.”

Nothing but silence comes from Stiles’ side of the bed.

Derek sighs in frustration, “Okay. Fine. You don’t have to tell me, but if you do, I promise I won’t judge you, or make fun of you, or anything like that. But just this once”.

They both laid there in the darkness, not knowing what to say next, and Derek could hear Stiles heart beating fast. _What could be so important about a pillow that his heart would be racing like this_?

“Remember,” Stiles blurts without warning, “Remember last December? When we all got snowed in at your place?”

Derek remembers. Last December, a few weeks before Christmas, the pack had gotten together at his loft for a movie night. They had just survived run-in with the invading Alpha pack, and they wanted to celebrate the fact that everyone had made it through the storm unharmed. It was a nice occasion, really. The pack had pushed the couches closer together and all of the pillows and blankets had been thrown into the middle. Around three movies in, the Sheriff had called Stiles, telling him that a blizzard had rolled in and that he didn’t want his son, or any member of the pack for that matter, to be on the roads that night. Derek remembers that Stiles had seemed a bit giddy about the decision, but he brushed it off as Stiles being his usual spaztastic self.

They were able to make it through another two movies before people started falling asleep. Derek had somehow allowed Scott and Allison to to kick him off of his own couch, an act that they were once again oblivious to because of their nonstop flirting and cuddling, and so he was left to sleep on the floor. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Derek had slept on the floor many times when Laura and Cora were over and they were having movie nights just like this one, however, none of those times involved Stiles sleeping merely two feet away.

As Derek lay there on the floor, he watched Stiles. Sleeping, it was almost as if Stiles was a different person. He was still, quiet, and he looked so serene. Derek admired Stiles’ lips and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes as he dreamt. He counted the rises and falls of his chest like children count sheep, and he fell asleep.

At some point in the night, Derek was awoken by muffled screams. He brushed it off as being his imagination and tried to go back to sleep, but then Stiles kicked him. Aggravated, Derek sat up and turned to Stiles. What he saw shocked him. Stiles was shaking violently, sweating bullets, and screaming under his breathe, but he was still asleep. _Nightmare_ , Derek thought. He had never seen Stiles look so frightened. Without a second thought, Derek grabbed the boy and pulled him into his arms, holding him tight so as to keep him from flailing. “It’s okay,” Derek whispered, “Stiles, it’s okay, it’s not real,”. Slowly, Stiles stops convulsing.

Derek remembers how warm it was, their two bodies fitting together like matching puzzle pieces. He told himself to let go, this wasn’t right, he couldn’t let the pack, or Stiles for that matter, wake up to the two of them spooning, but their breathing began to synchronize, and Derek’s eyes drooped under the weight of sleep. He laid his forehead against Stiles back, taking in his scent, and he fell asleep.

Derek woke the next morning, arms still wrapped around Stiles. The rest of the pack was still asleep. Derek carefully pulled his arm out from underneath Stiles and got up to make coffee. As far as he knew, no one had witnessed the happenings of the night before, and Derek was glad. After all, how could someone like Stiles ever be interested in Derek?

“Derek,” Stiles snaps his finger, “You in there?”

“Yeah,” Derek resurfaces from his memories, “I remember,”. Heat collects in his ears. “Why?”

“So that means you remember the nightmare I had.”

Derek froze at the words. _Theres no way_ , he thinks, was… “Stiles, were you—”

“Yes,” Stiles whispers, avoiding eye contact with Derek, “I woke up.”

“Look, Stiles, it’s not what—” Derek stutters, grasping for an explanation.

“Just listen,” Stiles says, unsure of what he is about to say. “Ever since the ritual with the ice bath, I’d been having nightmares. These nightmares, they… they were somehow connected to that ritual. When I came back, I left a door open in my head and it _fucked me up_.”

Derek speaks up. “Stiles, why didn’t you tell us? We… I — ”.

“Everyone was so happy, you know? It was all finally over. I didn’t want to bring any unnecessary worry to the pack,” Stiles forces a weak laugh. “I hadn’t slept in two weeks, and on the occasion that I did fall asleep for a few minutes, I would wake up screaming. Usually my dad would come and sit with me, calming me down, but he tended to work late nights, so he wasn’t always home. Eventually I couldn’t tell the difference between my dreams and real life. I was at my tipping point Derek, I was losing it, but then that movie night happened.” Stiles pauses, licking his lips. He looks down at the sheets, trying to piece together what he’s about to say. “I remember having another nightmare. It was just like the other ones. I woke up screaming, but I stuffed a blanket in my mouth to muffle my screams because I didn’t want to wake anyone up. I thought I had it under control, but then I kicked you. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but I _couldn’t even keep my own body still_. And then… And then you—” Stiles voice hitched on a lump in his throat.

“Stiles,” Derek puts his hand on Stiles shoulder, “I remember. You don’t have to talk about this if it upsets you”. Derek hated himself for not noticing how much Stiles had suffered right under his nose.

Stiles looks up into Derek’s eyes, and tears start to form in his field of vision. “You held me”, Stiles sobs. Derek pulls him into his chest, holding him once more. Stiles speaks up over the tears, “Do you realize how much I had always wanted that? Before the nightmares, I would dream of things like that. I was in love with you. I told myself that I was stupid for even entertaining the idea of us being together, and then you pulled me into your arms and told me that _it was going to be okay_ ,” Stiles muffles another sob, “ I panicked. I decided to pretend that I was asleep, thinking that you were just trying to get me to be quiet so that you could go back to sleep. I was finally able to calm down, and I figured you would put me down and go back to sleep, but you held onto me until you fell asleep. You _snuggled_ into my back,” Stiles takes in a drawn out, shaky breath. “When I finally fell back asleep, I didn’t have any nightmares. That was the first night, Derek, the first night in two weeks that I didn’t have a nightmare. You anchored me, Derek.”

“I just wanted to protect you, Stiles, to be there for you,” Derek puts his hand on Stiles’ face, his thumb chasing a falling tear. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Me? You wanted me to tell you that, every night before I fell asleep, I would take my pillow and set it against my back, pretending it was you, pretending that you were there to keep the nightmares away? I didn’t know if you really did… if you really do — ” Stiles is cut off by Derek’s lips. He presses into them, releasing years of want and need into Derek’s mouth. They mould together, becoming two parts of a whole. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, leaning into him, and they speak to each other through tongue flicks and gentle bites.

Derek runs his hand across Stiles’ face and reluctantly pulls away, Stiles’ mouth chasing after his. He flips Stiles onto his other side and pulls him into his arms. Derek nuzzles his head into Stiles back.

“ _I do_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic actually came from something similar that happened in my own life. If you have any comments or critiques, I'd love to hear them in the comments! Hope you enjoyed it :)


End file.
